


Temporary Insanity

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Drama, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-06
Updated: 2007-12-06
Packaged: 2018-12-17 17:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11856249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: #1 in The Rocking Chair Series. An unexpected gift, after successfully negotiating a deal with the Goa'uld to wrap the Teprins planet into the Protected Planets Treaty, leaves Dr. Jackson reeling mentally and physically.





	Temporary Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Temporary Insanity

“Jack?”

“Yes, Daniel?”

“Can I go to sleep now?”

“No, Daniel.”

“Why not?”

“Because Doc Fraiser said you need to stay awake awhile yet.”

“I’m really tired . . . Please?”

“I know, buddy. Want me to read?”

“No. That makes me sleepy.”

“Want to play cards?”

“No.”

“Okay, how ‘bout chess?”

“No.” It’s a tremendous effort just to keep his eyes open now. 

“How much longer?”

“Not more than half an hour. How ‘bout some more ice chips?”

“‘kay,” he sighs. “Jack?”

“Yes, Daniel?”

“Tomorrow?”

“What about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, will this be over?”

“Yeah, tomorrow this will all be behind us.” 

He opens his mouth like a baby bird as I spoon some more ice chips out of the styrofoam cup to feed to him. Over the last hour and a half we’ve pretty much perfected this move. 

Fraiser says there’s some kind of amnesic shock thing going on. Basically, Daniel hasn’t yet realized what’s happened. For the moment he is only five . . . or six . . . or seven . . . whatever. It’s a little difficult to determine. 

Yeah, tomorrow this will all be over . . .

NOT.

This is the thanks he gets for successfully wrapping yet another damn planet into the Protected Planets treaty? I was ready, willing, and armed to kill when I realized what they’d done to him. Only Thor’s intervention, and the fact that I had my arms full of our new bundle of joy, kept me from murdering the frickin’ alien who brought him out to us.

Now I slide onto the bed, gather up all his lines and leads and wires and pick him up, rearranging all his lines and leads and wires so we don’t get tangled in them.

“No rocking,” Daniel says sharply, though he leans against me wearily.

“Sorry.” I stop immediately. It’s instinctive - rock to comfort. 

The clock’s ticking down the twelve hours Doc decreed, while the machines wired to Daniel’s temperature, respiration, heartbeat, and brain waves variously beep, hum, and sigh. We’ve been up close to 60 hours now and everybody’s exhausted. I finally sent Carter and Teal’c off to get some sleep - or kel’no’reem - whatever it is Teal’c does in place of sleep. No use all of us being totally exhausted. 

I’m still so pissed I can barely see straight, though that may have more to do with how long we’ve been awake now, than what’s happened. Hell, I’m pissed clear down to the steel-toed combat boots pinching the hell outta my feet.

Somewhere along the way here, it occurred to me the Asgard have belatedly realized their mistake in pegging me as the next quantum leap in our evolutionary track. Because ever since Daniel agreed to see to the petty needs of the Goa’uld trying to screw us out of our Stargate, the Asgard have been stopping by every couple of months to ask if they can borrow him to help out with negotiations - all over the galaxy - hell, the known universe. 

If they hadn’t figured that out, we wouldn’t be in the situation we’re in now.

On one hand, Dr. Jackson’s reputation as a negotiator has upped the Goa’uld price on his head; on the other, it’s also made us a bunch of new friends and allies. If you ask me, though no one is, it’s the Asgard sneaky way of evening the odds against the Goa’uld. Theoretically they can’t assist any of the planets under their ‘protection’ to advance technologically. So they’re hosting these little soiree’s where they get Daniel to come and negotiate for them, and _voila,_ we gain a new ally, sometimes even new technology, and whatever planet they’ve just introduced us to gets folded into the Protected Planets treaty because Daniel’s damn good at finding the Gould’s Achilles heel. 

Except, something went wrong this time; very, very wrong. 

Well, from our perspective at least. 

What still has my blood boiling is the Asgard persist in calling us young and irresponsible? For cryin’ out loud! Without permission, and I guarantee against his will, the damn Tepid Torpids stole Daniel’s adulthood, stripping away more than thirty years of living. 

And Thor wanted us to smile politely and say thank you?

I’m sure I was gaping like a fish. I’m pretty certain some unpleasant things about Thor’s heritage came out of my mouth. And I vaguely remember Carter trying to spin it as I snatched one of those space blanket thingies out of her pack to wrap Daniel in. Teal’c was dialing the gate and me and the kid were through before she was done making nice.

A little of what Thor told us registered; the downsizing affected only his body, not his brain. So inside that five, or six, or seven-year-old body is the mind of a thirty-four-year-old. I’m relatively certain he told us there was a reason for this, but at the moment it escapes me.

Daniel is so screwed. 

This is going to mean life altering changes for more than just Daniel. There’s no question who he’s going to live with, at least not in my mind. And as the CO of this outfit it probably falls to me to be the one to share the . . . awakening? Realization? Revelation? Not that it matters, I have no plans to be elsewhere until Daniel wakes up again and we’ve done the _‘what the hell happened’_ thing. 

Oh, yeah, the other thing I remember is the Asgard offered to clone an adult Daniel from this Daniel’s DNA and move this Daniel’s consciousness back into an adult body. When Carter asked, in a rather strangled tone, what would happen to this Daniel, Thor just looked at her in his very Asgardish way and raised a non-existent eyebrow. 

When Carter refused to back down, he finally extemporized, “We would see that he was taken care of.”

Very little intimidates Carter – other than kitchen appliances – so of course she immediately demanded, “How?”

That was the last I heard. I didn’t wait for the answer and I didn’t bother to ask when she came through behind us. I really don’t want to know. 

I wasn’t thinking straight and didn’t radio ahead, so all hell broke loose when we stepped out on the Gate ramp in the SGC. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard Fraiser swear before. It took her about ten seconds to revert back to Doc mode, and about ten seconds more to have Daniel hooked up to every piece of equipment in the infirmary. Then it took ten hours, but she ran every test she could think of before confirming that, yes, Dr. Daniel Jackson is still Dr. Daniel Jackson, minus a few years, plus a new appendix. 

I guess we’re pretty jaded around here, nothing much gets our knickers in a twist anymore, but this rated an off-the-charts upheaval. 

Carter spent the first six hours we were back trying every ally she could think of who might have some insight into what was done and how to reverse it.

No luck. 

The small body in my arms shudders suddenly.

“Danny?” I snatch him up, shaking him like a rag doll when he doesn’t respond. “Daniel!”

“What?” The blue eyes open reluctantly. “I’m so tired, Jack. Please, can’t I sleep now? I can’t keep my eyes open any longer.”

“Just a few more minutes, okay, buddy? I promise you can have a nice long sleep in a few more minutes.” Fraiser appears at my elbow and I sigh in relief. “Doc, is a few minutes more really gonna make a difference? Can’t we let him sleep now?”

“Yes, actually, I think it will be fine to go to sleep now. Here, Daniel, why don’t you crawl under the covers.” She lifts up the blankets so I can slide the small, pliant body into bed, again rearranging all the leads and lines and wires. “I’m going to put a sedative into your IV so you sleep really well, okay?”

“Jack?”

“What, Daniel?”

“You’ll be here when I wake up, won’t you?” He could care less about how he’s going to sleep, or why. He just wants to sleep and know I’ll be there when he wakes up.

“Aren’t I always here when you wake up?”

“Yeah.” He nestles into the pillow with a weary sigh.

Janet smoothes back the honey-blond hair and plants a light kiss on the revealed, scrunched-up forehead. “Sleep tight, Daniel, don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

He smiles wanly, closes his eyes, and is asleep before I’ve smoothed the covers over him.

“In my office, Colonel. We need to have a council of war. Teal’c, Sam, and the General are already there. This has been a very long two days for him, sir. With the sedative I just gave him he should be out like a light until tomorrow morning at least.” She catches my eye and adds, “However, I’ll leave a nurse with him just to be on the safe side.”

“Want to place a bet?”

“Since it is Daniel we’re talking about, I’m filing that in the category of sucker bet. I’ll give it a pass, sir. Come on, we’ve been waiting for you.”

Two hours later we’re no further along on how we’re going to handle this than we were when I joined the fray. We’ve been going round and round on the issue of the prime directive versus what’s right.

I’ve had it up to my eyeballs. “If the Turpentine’s refuse to fix this mess they’ve made there’s no way we’re going to enter into any alliance with them. Permission to go back to him, sir.” I am so outta here.

“Colonel, I understand your anger and you’re absolutely right to feel that way; however, standing orders preclude our turning down an alliance with these folks just because they took a shine to Doctor Jackson.” 

“Some shine,” I mutter.

The General really has no choice; it’s his job to take the standard line. “And no, Jack, you do not have permission to leave until we’ve come to some kind of resolution here.”

“Sir, they’re light years ahead of us in science and medicine.” 

Carter too? Cripes. “Technology, Carter?” I kick her under the table but she ignores me.

“They’ve refined naquada technology to the point where they are able to produce several _different_ kinds of clean energy from it. I don’t think we can afford to turn down an alliance, sir. And frankly, I think Daniel will tell you the same thing - especially if it’s true they left all his memories intact.”

She’s right, he probably will, but I’m not going down without a fight. “I don’t give a rip if they’ve figured out how to harness the energy of their sun, Major. What they did was wrong on so many levels I can’t count them. Yeah, you’re right, Daniel will probably adjust and accept this a hell of a lot quicker and better than I will. That’s entirely beside the point. Who’re we sending over next? Suppose they take a shine to you, or Teal’c? Or me? Would you be rolling over and playing dead so easily if it were you?” I’m on my feet with no memory of standing and the headache I’ve been fighting for the last twelve hours explodes with the force of one of Carter’s nuclear blasts. “Sir, I will not put a foot back on that planet if they continue to refuse to fix this. I’m going back to Daniel.”

“You are not dismissed, Colonel,” Hammond snaps. “I’m sorry, Jack, you’re not going anywhere until we have viable plan in place for what’s going to happen with Dr. Jackson.”

“I’m taking him home as soon as Fraiser clears him. If I have to retire again, I will. But I’m not going back to that planet unless they’re offering to fix this.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” Hammond says quietly. “Despite what it sounds like, I do understand your feelings, Colonel.”

I sit back down reluctantly. It won’t do Daniel any good for me to end up in the brig and we’re all enough on edge it wouldn’t take much to push any one of us over. “If it’s true they’re not gonna change him back, I want to adopt him.”

“Is that even feasible, Doctor Fraiser?” General Hammond inquires.

“From a logistical standpoint, General, there’s no reason why he can’t. We’ll have to forge records, create documents, just as we did with Cassie.” Janet shakes her head. “But, if the Teprins won’t change him back, I don’t see that we have any other choice. He’ll have to have some kind of a guardian, sir. He’ll have to live with someone and Colonel O’Neill seems to be the logical choice from SG-1. Teal’c can’t really provide him with a home here on base. And it doesn’t seem right to have a five or six-year-old, with thirty-something memories, living with his thirty-something female teammate.”

“We have no idea what kind of problems this is going to cause,” Hammond warns. “And I believe we should consult Dr. Jackson’s wishes on this as well. Clearly he can’t live alone, but we should at least give him some voice in these proceedings.”

 

“I totally agree, sir. I think we also need to assess the situation and take action as quickly as possible, before the NID gets wind of this. I think we need to declare Daniel dead and claim this incarnation is a son we never knew he had. If the Turgids are eventually willing to do something, then we’ll work something out. In the meantime we need to take every precaution in order to keep this as quiet as possible.”

“It won’t work,” Carter states. “There’s no way we can keep this quiet. Everybody inside the Mountain already knows something happened to Daniel. And won’t the President and Joint Chiefs have to know?”

“Major Carter’s right, we can’t keep this a secret. But I think with a few exceptions we can keep it pretty much inside our own command. Colonel, you still have ties to any of those connections we were able to utilize for Cassie’s protection?”

“Absolutely, I’ll get on it immediately. Sir, I promised I would be there when Daniel woke up, I really would like to get back to him.”

“I thought Dr. Fraiser said he would sleep until morning?”

“Yes, sir. But we all know Daniel’s penchant for defying expectations. I need to be there when he wakes up. I want him to know he can trust me when I tell him something, sir.”

General Hammond sighs and rubs at his forehead. Maybe he’s got the mother of all headaches too. “Of course, you’re right. Go on, we’ll try to hammer out a few more details before we finish for the night.”

The General finally wanders in a little after midnight. He gives me the eye and points me back down when I automatically start to rise from the chair where I’ve been sitting watching Daniel sleep. It’s been almost three hours since I left; I hope they’ve accomplished more than we did in the first two hours. 

Hammond crosses his arms on the pulled-up railing and stands for a long time looking down at our tiny Daniel. “You sure you’re up for this, Jack?” He looks over at me as he reaches down to brush back the hair drifting over the still scrunched-up forehead. 

Even in sleep Daniel knows something’s not right.

“No, sir. Not at all sure. But like Fraiser said, Teal’c can’t give him a home and putting him with Carter is just plain weird. I’m the only logical one of SG-1.”

“My daughter might be willing to take him.”

“No, sir,” I say, rising wearily. “I’m not sure I’m up for it.” I cross my arms on the railings on this side of the bed and meet the General’s gaze squarely. “But I know I want to do it _and_ I’m a known quantity. We already have an established relationship. It will be easier for Daniel to adapt to me as a guardian than someone else, sir.”

“I believe you’re right about that.” The General sighs deeply. “I just hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for.”

“I have an idea at least. I did the parenting thing once - just wasn’t very good at it.”

Hammond is silent for so long I think he’s not going to answer. And then on a sigh he says, “I think you’ll make a great dad, Jack, even to a thirty-four-year-old-six-year-old. It’s going to be a job not to spoil him rotten.”

“Yes, sir. That occurred to me as well. Especially since we’ve already taken a run at this and I know damn well what I’ll be up against.”

“So,” the General turns my rueful smile back on me as he runs a gentle hand over the small blond head, ruffling the silky hair. “Any thoughts on how Dr. Jackson will react to this?”

“Many, sir. None of them pleasant. I suppose a lot will depend on how much he really remembers, but I suspect he’s gonna be as pissed as Daniel ever is.” 

Between us, he sleeps on undisturbed. If the thirty-four-year-old archeologist managed to look cherubic while sleeping, who could resist this tiny, drooling incarnation. 

“What is it about him, do you suppose? Is it just that innocence that attracts every damn race we come in contact with? Maybe I should start Dr. Fraiser looking for some kind of vaccine – just for Dr. Jackson.”

“To make him less innocent, sir?” I chuckle. “It did occur to me if Carter and the doc could bend the nanite technology to their will, maybe we could correct this. You know, just enough to get him back to the right age in three months instead of another twenty-eight years.”

“I’ll put a bug in their ear, Colonel. It’s certainly worth looking into if there’s even a possibility it might work without harmful side effects.”

“Yeah, there is that. It was just a thought.”

“Let’s see what we can do. Get some sleep, Colonel. It looks as if Dr. Fraiser’s estimate of when he might wake could be on target this time.”

“We’ll see.”

“If you’re going to keep up with a six-year-old Daniel Jackson, you’re going to have to stay healthy and alert. Can’t do that on no sleep, Jack.”

“Yes, sir, I’m aware of that. In awhile.” I’m not ready to give up my vigil just yet. Since the infirmary is presently unoccupied except for us, Doc won’t mind if I sleep on the next bed. 

“We’ll go over what we’ve managed to figure out in the morning.”

“Works for me, sir.” I cover a yawn and shake my head as I realize maybe I’m not as wide awake as I thought.

The General’s smile encompasses both Daniel and me. “Goodnight, Jack.”

“Nite, sir. Sleep tight.”

* * *

“Hey,” I greet my best friend, as sleepy blue eyes blink and slide closed. “You slept a long time, buddy.” I’ve been awake for an hour or so, grabbed a quick shower, had an SF bring me coffee, been debriefed, or briefed, depending on how you look at it, and I’m running on all cylinders.

Ready to deal with this. 

“Feel better?”

“Uhm,” Daniel mumbles. “Why’m I here?” 

The unspoken _‘this time’_ hangs in the air between us.

Standing, arms crossed on the railing that keeps him safely in the bed, I think again how absurdly small he looks in the large hospital bed. “Well,” I stall, “what do you remember?” Okay, I thought I was ready for this.

Daniel shoves the blankets down and pulls himself up using the bars for leverage. Yawning, he scratches his head. “Gotta go to the bathroom. Will you unhook me?” He holds up his hand for me to remove the IV from its port. He’s used to this routine, we’ve done it several dozen times over the last few years. My presence at his bedside when he wakes up is a given. “Where’er Sam and Teal’c?” He yawns again. 

I take his tiny hand and remove the miniature IV needle, but don’t let go of it, even when he tugs impatiently. “Daniel, before you go to the bathroom, you need to stop and think. What do you remember about what happened?”

Sighing, Daniel smacks the bed railing with his free hand. “Thor introduced us to the Teprins. We were going to . . .” he trails off as for the first time he really looks at his hand against the railing. Astonished eyes turn up to me. A long way above him. For an instant, disbelief wars with confusion in the wide eyes. “What happened?” he asks, looking back down at his very small hand barely encompassing the round tubes of the railing. “No way!” He snatches his hand from mine to hold both of his out in front of him. For a long moment he stares as if unable to process what his mind is telling him. “Please tell me this is some kind of cosmic joke.”

“We’re working on getting the Torpids to reverse the process. So far, they’re refusing.”

“It’s the Teprins and I want to talk to them.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said, and that’s . . . a possibility . . . just not right away.”

“Why?” Daniel demands, rising effortlessly to his knees. “Let me out, I really need to go to the bathroom.”

“Will you let me help you out of bed?” I’m not going to make the mistake of automatically assuming he’ll accept my help.

“Do I have a choice?” 

I lift him easily over the railing and set him down gently, making sure he has his balance before I let go. “Don’t dawdle, Fraiser will be here shortly. She’s going to want to talk to you.”

“Like I don’t want to talk to her!” Daniel shoots back over his shoulder, scampering across the infirmary to the communal bathroom and shutting the door with a satisfying slam. 

I’ve got to get this smile under control before he gets out of the bathroom; but let me tell you, it will be awhile before the picture of our archeologist, trying to hold up the waist of too-large scrubs, while simultaneously trying not trip over too-long pant legs, fades. 

The additional irritation of the top reaching nearly to his knees makes it that much more difficult to get and keep a grip on the pants. Even with the drawstring we were unable to tighten them enough to keep them from sliding down over his skinny little ass. But then, we’ve always had trouble with military clothing and Daniel; everything he puts on looks like its three sizes too large.

And I’m thinking its taking way too long in there. “Daniel? You okay?” No response, so I try the door; thankfully it’s unlocked. “What the hell are you doing?” I snatch him up off the toilet seat where he’s standing on tippy-toe, leaning against the sink and stretching as far as he can to look in the mirror. “Are you trying to kill yourself?” 

His skinny little arms come automatically around my neck as I grab him. “I just wanted to see in the mirror.” 

Okay, I can see why he’d want a peek in the mirror. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea, but maybe it’s better to let him see now. Maybe we can skip right through the denial stage if he gets a really good look at himself . . . yeah right. 

He almost twists out of my loose hold as he strains to get to the mirror again. So I shift, set my knee against the sink and stand him on it, keeping both hands wrapped around his waist. 

Teal’c could probably span his waist with just one hand.

“Down,” he orders imperiously, after a long look. 

I put him down. 

“I got a few things to say to the Teprins. When are we going back?”

“Well, now, that could be a problem. How ya feeling?” I open the door, usher Daniel back across the ward, and lower the side rail so he can climb back up on the bed without assistance. I don’t make the mistake of raising the rail back up either; I just sit down, making an excellent substitute of myself. 

Daniel huffs a sigh. “I’m fine.” 

The gold standard in Daniel speak.

“No piercing headaches? No stomachache? Nothing feels out of place?”

“Well, _I_ feel out of place . . . or my head feels out of place . . . no, that’s not right either. Yeah, something’s out of place, the old me is out of place!”

“Take it easy, we’re working on sorting this out, but there’s not a lot we can do about it right now. Hammond’s working on getting a return invite for a diplomatic team.” I’m smart enough not to say what I’m thinking, which is _‘fat lot of good it will do’._ “And he’s talked to Fraiser about seeing if she can maybe manipulate some of the nanite technology to age you just a little bit, like twenty or thirty years.”

“I’m little . . . AGAIN!”

“Danny, calm down.”

“Don’t call me that!” He throws himself back against the pillow. “And I don’t want to calm down! Where’s Janet? Where’re Teal’c and Sam? Sam will figure something out. Where is everybody?”

I glance thankfully over my shoulder as I hear the doc’s heels on the concrete floor, “Doc’s on her way now.”

Daniel sits up immediately. And I get my first clue that we’re absolutely dealing with a kid here. 

“How are you going to fix this?” he demands.

Fraiser fixes him with a gimlet eye. “We need to get something straight right off the bat, Dr. Jackson. I don’t care if you’re six or sixty, you will speak to me with appropriate respect. I am not your personal mechanic, I am only your doctor, and I cannot fix every mess you get yourself into.”

Wow. Guess she didn’t get much sleep last night either. 

“Uh, Doc, I don’t really think we can blame this one on Daniel. As far as I know, he didn’t touch anything, say anything, or even look at anybody wrong.”

Those eyes turn up to me with something too close to fear for comfort. It’s just wrong to see fear in Daniel’s eyes. I want to pull him onto my lap and hold him, but I don’t know if that’s acceptable now.

“I’m sorry,” he says contritely. “I didn’t mean it to come across like that. Janet, I can’t be little again. I don’t want to do this again. Please do something.”

She caves immediately. The Doc’s the best; I suspect she can see the fear too. “Daniel, I don’t know if there’s anything we can do. All your results are normal. You’re a perfectly normal, perfectly healthy . . . little boy.” She rushes on before he can interrupt. “Last time this happened your body reacted as though it was under a great deal of stress. There’s none of that this time, nothing to indicate anything out of the ordinary has happened.”

Before she’s finished, Daniel’s scrambling back up to his knees so he’s nearly on eye level with the doc. 

“I LOST THREE QUARTERS OF MY LIFE HERE, HOW CAN EVERYTHING BE NORMAL?”

“Sit down right now!” I grab him by the arm. “And stop screaming. We’re trying to keep a lid on this, Daniel. You’re not helping yourself at all by announcing to everyone on base you’re no longer thirty-four years old.”

That gets him. He bounces back down on his ass, eyes me momentarily, then crawls into my lap with a huge sigh. “I don’t wanna be little again, Jack.”

Since he’s initiated it, I’m allowed to cuddle. I put my chin down on the top of his head and cradle the small, pliant body against my chest. “I know, Daniel, and we’re trying to get it fixed. But I need you to listen to me, okay? And I mean really listen.” I tilt his chin up so he’s looking me in the eye. 

His jaw clenches tight. 

“Thor told us the Terrapins have refused to change you back.” I can see the mutinous light in his eye all ready. “We’re trying diplomatic channels. Doc Fraiser’s looking into bending the nanite technology, but she won’t use it unless it’s perfectly safe for you.” 

I throw up a hand when he starts with the _‘I don’t care . . .’_

“You may not, we do. We’d rather have a live, tiny Daniel, than a dead Daniel, period. We won’t be using it unless it’s perfectly safe, end of that conversation. Carter has contacted her dad to see if the Tok’ra have any sort of technology that could possibly change you back. Janet has a dozen different scientists combing through your test results on the off chance she missed some minuscule little detail that might put us on track to reversing this process. All that said, I don’t think we’re gonna be able to fix this. I don’t think Thor would mess with our heads like this if it weren’t the honest-to-God truth.” 

“And?”

“And . . . Carter says the Terradactryls have developed several different kinds of clean energy from their refined naquada. They’re willing to share, which, you’re fully aware, is a totally unheard of thing when it comes to the very young Tau’ri.”

“So I’m the price of getting clean energy?” 

Nothing dumb about this kid. 

With a sigh I let go of his chin, snug him back under my own chin, and hug him gently. “Hammond doesn’t think the brass will let us turn down an alliance.”

“So I’m the price,” Daniel says wearily. “Why me, Jack? Why the hell doesn’t this ever happen to you, or Sam, or Teal’c?”

“Well, there is a mini-me . . .” I trail off when he snorts.

“Yeah, a clone. Who’s off going to school somewhere now, having the time of his life. It’s not the same.”

He’s right. It’s not the same. “I’m sorry.” 

He tilts his head up to look at me again, all big eyes and that mop of hair. And sighs again. “So what’s the plan?”

“For the time being, we’re sending SG-8 out to an archeological site for an extended mission. As far as everyone outside the SGC is concerned, you’ll be on that mission.”

“And how are you going to explain mini-me?”

Oh yeah, too smart for his own good. 

“Well, as soon as we can manage it, we’re going to . . . uhm . . .” I’m at a loss for words here. Carter’s roughed out enough of the details we think we can pull off the unacknowledged son bit, at least outside the SGC. 

This is so not going to go over well. 

“What?” he wants to know. 

Fraiser’s been awfully quiet since she made her announcement. I look to her now, but she only gives me a minimal twist of the head, indicating her unwillingness to give him this news. She’s already had to give enough bad news of her own.

“All right. Unfortunately, we can’t keep this quiet inside the Mountain, but we have to keep it inside, ‘cause if the NID sniffs this out . . .” Do I tell him I’m not absolutely certain we can keep him safe if that happens? Right. Stupid question, O’Neill, he doesn’t need to be told that. “Anyway, obviously we want to keep that from happening at all costs. So, we need to keep up the charade you’re off playing in the dirt with SG-8 until we figure out whether we can get this reversed.” 

“And then what?”

“Then what what?” Daniel hates it when I do this to him and I shouldn’t be doing it now. This is serious and he deserves to know, even if he doesn’t want to hear it. “Sorry.” I twitch a shoulder and plunge ahead. “If we can’t do anything to reverse it, we’ll eventually have to have you die in some unfortunate off-world accident and after a bit, resurrect you.”

“As what? Or should I say, who?”

“Well, I guess you’re going to have to be Dr. Jackson’s unacknowledged love child.”

“Love child?” Daniel blinks up at me. “I have a love child?”

“No,” I correct, “you are a love child.”

“With who?” he demands, on the verge of hysteria. “Hathor? Shyla? Oh no, I’ve got it! With Linea, the Destroyer of Worlds?”

“Stop, Daniel.” I grab his hands as he turns to clutch at my t-shirt. As gently as I can, I pull him back against my chest, palming the small blond head and massaging the back of his neck. 

There are no tears but the small shoulders are heaving as he tries to draw breath into tiny lungs already filled to capacity. 

Fraiser grabs a paper bag and plasters it around his nose and mouth. “Breathe, Daniel,” she orders sharply. And realizing he can’t, she calms her own voice and says quietly, “Shh, shhh, shhh. Listen to me, okay. Close your eyes and listen to my voice.”

I can’t see what’s happening, but he does relax a little, so I know he’s listening. 

“Exhale, close your mouth and breathe out through your nose. There you go, okay, now, gently, gently, breathe in again. Out . . . In . . . Out . . . there you go, couple more times, okay, and I’ll take the bag away. Once more . . . that’s good. You okay now?”

I feel him nod against me and though his breath is still coming in short, sharp gasps, I can feel his lungs expanding and contracting again. I move my hand down to rub the absurdly tiny back. 

“Okay?” I ask.

“No.”

“We’ll get this fixed somehow, I promise.” Before the words are out of my mouth I’m kicking myself – because I shouldn’t be telling him anything I’m not a hundred percent positive I can follow through on. I can’t help it. He needs to hear it and I need to say it. I need to believe it as much as he does. “We don’t have to go into detail. For now, we’re just going to say you were brought to our attention under highly classified circumstances and because your father was my best friend, you’re staying with me.”

He’s quiet for a bit and I know that overpowered brain is working away at this new puzzle. “If they can’t or won’t fix it, you’ll have to get forged birth certificates and stuff, like we did for Cassie.”

“Yes, we will. We’ll work out the details as we go along.” 

“I don’t want to do this.”

“I know.

“I didn’t like growing up the first time, Jack. I don’t want to do it again.”

“If we have to do this, you know it will be different this time, don’t you?”

“I don’t want to do thirteen again for anything! I’ve been married! How old am I supposed to be this time?” He lifts his head to look over at Fraiser. “How old am I anyway?”

Fraiser flirts a shoulder and mumbles something unintelligible. 

Daniel unconsciously leans toward her. “What?”

“About six – I think,” she says softly, wincing. “I don’t have a lot of experience –” 

He just shakes his head and burrows back into my chest. “I hate you,” he says on a weary sigh. “I hate you all.”

Fraiser leans forward to place a light kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be back in a bit. I think you and the Colonel need some time to talk, okay?”

For now, all I can do is echo his sigh, and rock imperceptibly. 

I’d hate us too.

But there are things we have to accomplish and the day is sliding away.

“How old do you want . . . let me rephrase that . . . how old do you think we should say you are? I know you want to be 34. Right at the moment that’s not possible. I already know eight’s no good. Was there an age you liked being? A time when your memories are happy?”

“No,” he says shortly. “I put away those memories the year I turned eight. And then foster care ate away what I’d managed to squirrel away from before.” 

You don’t get to be a Colonel in the U.S. Air Force by being a sap, but that goes straight to the little bit that’s left of my heart. 

I know where he went to school for the first time ever and that the teachers initially thought he was mildly autistic. I know he lived in some rough foster home situations before he finally escaped the system and went to live in a college dorm at age sixteen. I know that in college he was exposed to the seamier side of life long before he should have had the coping skills to just say no, but I also know he had the smarts and the balls to keep saying no in the appropriate places. 

However, I know none of this from Daniel. 

But you don’t go to work for _the_ top secret military instillation on Earth until you have no secrets anymore. 

“I know this isn’t going to be easy for you, D.J., but if you want to get out of here, there are some things we’re going to have to resolve. You don’t want to live on base until we can get this fixed do you?”

“Yes, I do.” He sniffs. “No.” Further sniffs. “I don’t know.” A fat, glistening tear plops like a raindrop on my forearm. “I don’t want to do this.”

“I know.” Stratigically I wait a several seconds before asking, “How about a new birthday? We could say you just had one and say you’re seven and small for your age.”

“I don’t want a new birthday.”

“Why not? You told me before you didn’t like the one you had.”

“That’s beside the point. It’s still mine, even if I don’t like it. I don’t want a new one.”

“We were kind of thinking we’d use October 31st as your birthday.”

“What’s the date?” he asks suspiciously, leaning back against my arm to look up at me again. “That was yesterday wasn’t it? You’re going to make my birthday the day this happened to me? You think I want to celebrate this?” 

Oops - we didn’t think about that. 

“And Halloween besides? Well, I can guarantee you one thing, I’ll certainly live up to the sobriquet _‘devil child’_ if I have to do this again.”

“Now. come on, Daniel, can’t you at least try to think of this as an opportunity to start over again?”

“No. I don’t want to start over again. I finally had a life, Jack. I want it back.” He’s not happy, but at least he’s not throwing a tantrum. 

“Okay, so by the time you’re twenty again, you’ll have this life thing down to a science, hmm?”

He thumps back against me with an intentional smack, eliciting a grunt. “I don’t want to do this.”

“I know you don’t and it’s not fair.” I wisely don’t add life has never been fair to Daniel, though it’s the truth. He told me once, that life started shitting on him at the age of eight. It hasn’t stopped. 

A silent rain of bitter tears batters my arm and then he’s clambering up on my leg, shoving his face into my neck, arms squeezing for all they’re worth, and hiccupping through that storm of silent tears that he really, really, really doesn’t want to have to do this again and can’t I make it all go away and make him big again, please, Jack, please?

I just hold him and rock gently. 

Carter comes in, followed by Teal’c. She sinks down on the bed and reaches to put her arms around both of us, rocking with us. She starts to cry too, which makes Daniel cry harder. 

She’s murmuring to him so quietly I can’t understand a thing, though Daniel obviously does, because every once in awhile he nods. He transfers his arms to around her neck and is holds on like she’s a life line in these rough seas. 

I grab Teal’c by the wrist and drag him over. He surprises me when he drops to one knee and puts his arms around all of us, resting his forehead gently against Daniel’s temple. 

I can’t begin to imagine what we must look like, but neither do I care. It’s not something we usually advertise, but I think all of us have acknowledged all ready - for better or worse this is our family unit. It’s just taken a new twist. And I want Daniel to understand from the get-go we’re all in this together; we are all going to be here for him.

Carter sits up, smiling at Teal’c as he raises his head too. She pulls Daniel from my arms for a hug, hands him off to Teal’c, who hugs him as well, and deposits him back in my lap. 

Fraiser joins us again, sitting down on the other side of the bed. “We’ll work through this, Daniel,” she says, “we’ll do whatever we have to.” She swoops in to plant another kiss on Daniel’s forehead as he leans back against me.

“I hope you’re feeling the love here, kiddo,” I jostle him just enough to make my point.

He swipes the back of his arm across his eyes, sniffing. “Why do I have to be little to get this kind of treatment?”

“Maybe because you’re Mr. Prickly when you’re big. You always growl and snarl every time we invade your personal space.” Carter grins. “See, there are some advantages to being small.”

He mulls this over for a second. “I don’t mean to growl and snarl, Sam.”

“I know.” She reaches out automatically, caressing his cheek with the back of her hand. “I do, Daniel, I know it’s not easy for you to let us in.”

This is her drinking buddy, though Daniel’s alcohol tolerance is on the low end of non-existent, her go-to guy when she needs a shoulder to cry on, her best friend, for cryin’ out loud. Well, after Fraiser, I guess, though it wouldn’t surprise me if he beat out Fraiser for the spot. They spend a lot of time together on missions, not all of it work. 

Carter laughs outright and leans forward to tickle him lightly. “You’ll be less intimidating when you growl and snarl in this manifestation.”

He giggles, a sound I don’t believe I’ve ever heard out of the adult manifestation, and immediately claps a hand over his mouth, mortified. “Don’t,” he snaps, sliding back out of her grasp.

“Why not? I would have tickled you when you were big if I’d known you were that ticklish.”

“I’m not,” Daniel states empathetically. “I grew out of it years ago.”

“Ohhhhh,” Carter grins, drawing out the word. “I see.”

Probably to show he means business, he reverts to a smokescreen of questions. “Will I still be able to work? Go through the Gate? You’re not gonna make me go to school again, are you?” Daniel demands, white showing all the way around those big blue eyes.

“No,” I say hastily, forestalling what could be an even bigger tempest than the first one. “We won’t make you go to school.” 

“But if you wanted to go back to grad school,” Carter teases, “get a few more degrees, you could, you know. In a few years.”

This one gets some serious thought too. “Oh.”

“Perhaps we should think more immediately, such as what you would like for breakfast, Danieljackson? You must be hungry after your lengthy sleep,” Teal’c inserts. 

“I am.” He knows to look at Janet, this too is routine. “I’m okay, right?”

“You’re fine, as far as I can tell.”

“Good. Pancakes, Teal’c, with lots of syrup. Oh and butter. I’m starved. And coffee.”

“Uhm, how about milk instead of coffee?” 

While it’s not exactly an order, its clear Fraiser’s drawing the line at coffee this morning. I’m wondering if she’s gonna draw the proverbial line in the sand over this all together, or is it just a temporary thing. 

This could be our first show down with our headstrong, suddenly short, archeologist. 

“Just until we’re sure there’s nothing out of whack, okay?”

“I need coffee, Janet,” Daniel says warningly. “I’m not giving up coffee because I’m . . . short.”

“All right, half coffee, half milk,” Janet compromises.

“No!” Daniel wails. He drinks it black, doesn’t want anything diluting his caffeine. 

“Half and half, or nothing.” 

I give him a warning squeeze. The doc isn’t always around. 

He relaxes a little and I know he’s gotten the message; he’s just not sure I’m really going to side with him against Fraiser on this issue. He’s probably right, but this isn’t a battle we have to fight right now. 

“Bring him some orange juice too, would you, Teal’c.”

The Jaffa rises gracefully to his feet and I’m craning my neck to look up at him as he asks, “Would you like breakfast as well, O’Neill?”

“Thanks, T, the usual.”

“I’ll go with you, Teal’c.” Carter slides off the bed, reaching to ruffle Daniel’s hair as she gets up. “Back in flash, okay?”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“You betcha.” 

She and Teal’c head for the other end of the infirmary. 

I turn to Fraiser, shifting Daniel so he’s more comfortably ensconced in my lap. “When can we go home?”

“We’ll have to coordinate that with General Hammond, sir. But there’s no reason to keep you here anymore.” She cups Daniel’s cheek, doing the mom thing, checking for fever. 

This is so different from last time; I know she’s worried still. Last time he was one sick kiddo for the first few days after the transformation. The occupants of the planet told us it was a blessing from some lady or another. A gift of reclamation and healing. 

I’m not sure how much Daniel got out of the experience, but it sure was fun . . . for a few days.

He sighs now. “I need some stuff from my office if I’m going to figure out any kind of reasonable argument to convince the Teprins to change me back. And you didn’t answer me. Are you going to let me work? Will I still be able to go through the Gate?”

“There are going to be things we have to work out as we go along, okay? Probably you’ll still be able to work. You are still going to get paid. The Gate thing . . . we’re not real clear on yet. It depends.”

“On what?”

“We, uh, haven’t figured that out.” 

We went round and round on this last night before I left the meeting. Obviously we can’t do it on a regular basis, there’s too much risk involved, but I don’t see why we can’t take him off world occasionally . . . as long as it’s staked out like the White House. 

“And when do you expect to?”

“Expect to what?” I’m a little surprised, actually, Daniel’s taking this much better than I thought he would.

“Figure it out?”

“Oh. That. Well, like I said, some things we’re going to have to work out as we go along. Going through the Gate is one of them.”

With another deep sigh, Daniel sinks back against me again.

The door opens at the far end of the room and I look up, expecting Carter and Teal’c, but it’s General Hammond. 

Daniel grabs my neck, legs clamping around my waist, as I rise automatically.

“At ease, Colonel.”

“Thank you, sir.” I sit back down, Daniel still clinging to me like the space monkey he is.   
“So how’s our patient this morning?”

His face is buried between his arm and my neck so all that’s visible is this mop of honey-blond hair. 

“Daniel? The General asked you a question.”

“I’m fine,” is the muffled reply.

I’m a little puzzled. There wasn’t this reaction to Fraiser, or Carter, or Teal’c. 

“Daniel?” I say again, giving him a slight squeeze. “I think the General would like to talk to you.” 

For a couple of seconds I think he’s going to ignore me, then his arms tighten a little around my neck, and I feel him move his arm and turn his head. He’s still got his cheek pressed against my chest and though I can’t see what Hammond is seeing, I imagine it’s something of a shock for the General. 

Without glasses to camouflage them, this manifestation of Daniel is nothing but eyes. 

“Morning, General.”

I’m watching the General watch Daniel and hoping Daniel isn’t watching the General quite as closely as I am, because I see the sheen of tears brighten his eyes briefly; see his hand start to raise; and then I see him get himself back under control like the excellent officer he is. 

“Good morning, Daniel. Did you sleep well last night?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Feeling okay this morning?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I understand breakfast is on the way. I ran into . . . into the rest of SG-1 in the corridor as I was headed down here.”

Daniel says nothing, but his arms continue to tighten incrementally around my neck.

“Sir, any word from the Tok’ra or the Asgard?”

“I don’t believe so, Colonel, but check with Major Carter. Doctor, what’s the status here?” 

Fraiser closes Daniel’s chart and wraps her arms around it. “The Colonel has asked if they can go home, sir. We can get information to them just as quickly at home as here. As long as it’s all right with you, I can release him into Colonel O’Neill’s care.”

“Then you’re satisfied there’s nothing physically wrong with him?”

“Nothing, sir. Daniel seems to be in perfect health.” Janet smiles at Daniel, shoving her hands in her pockets, probably to keep from petting him. He is irresistibly cute. Even Hammond is smitten already. But then, Daniel was a favorite of his before this happened.

“Is there anything you need from me, Colonel?”

“I’d appreciate it if you’d put SG-1 on stand down until we can resolve this situation, sir.”

“By all means. Consider yourselves on stand down. Unless there is an emergency, I won’t schedule you off-world again until this is resolved.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Dr. Jackson, is there anything you need?”

“No, sir.”

“All right then.” Hammond glances from me to Fraiser, to Daniel, and back to me. “Keep me posted.”

“Yes, sir,” Janet and I respond in stereo. 

Though one arm still anchors him, Daniel’s unclasped his hands from around my neck and turns to watch the General leave. “What’s keeping Sam and Teal’c?” he wants to know.

“I’ll go check,” Fraiser volunteers. 

I wonder if she wants to discuss something privately with Hammond. If it’s something I need to know, she’ll get me the information - all in due time.

The door barely closes behind her when it’s pushed open again, admitting Carter, with Teal’c right behind her, both of them carrying loaded trays. T snags the bed tray with a foot and scoots it over in front of Daniel and me.

“What was that all about?” I ask as I shift to move Daniel off my lap.

“What?” The arm around my neck squeezes tight again, though his gaze is now fastened on the stack of pancakes dripping syrup.

Okay, obviously he doesn’t want to move off my lap. I just roll my eyes and move him around so we can both eat. “The shy bit with Hammond.” I’m surprised to see his ears pink up. I turn his chin up to look at his face. “Why would talking to Hammond embarrass you?”

“It wasn’t talking to him,” he mumbles, jerking his chin from my grasp and grabbing the utensils Teal’c holds out to him.

“Then what?” Okay, I have to hand it to him, usually I’m not this dense, I am just playing with him. This morning I haven’t got a clue. When he do’h’s me, I just shake my head. “I’m not tuning in here, Daniel.”

“I’m little again,” Daniel informs me through gritted teeth, nose squinched into slitted eyes. “And I haven’t forgotten how this went last time.”

Light dawns. “Ohhhh.” Proportionate response here, O’Neill. “Daniel,” I say carefully, “this time will be different.” I’m good at setting boundaries. Being 2IC of the base doesn’t hurt when it comes to enforcing them. 

“No, it won’t be,” he predicts, adding lowered eyebrows to his almost sinister look – of course, given that he looks like a tiny elfin child, it’s difficult to get even close to sinister to begin with. 

Which is exactly why he knows he’s right.

“You want everybody to salute when they see you?”

“No,” he snaps, digging into his pancakes. “Don’t be any stupider than you have too, Jack.”

Now that hurts, especially when I’m only trying to help. I adjust him on my lap as I reach for my own plate. “All right, that’s something we’ll have to work on. Don’t slime me,” I warn, only half in jest. 

Daniel reaches immediately for the cup of coffee Carter sets down next to his plate of pancakes. 

It’s in a real cup, not styrofoam, mind you, so ya gotta know somebody in the kitchen is already aware of what’s going on, and I get a good look at it as its headed north. I don’t know if he’s got his eyes closed or what, but I’m waiting. 

“Daniel,” I warn, in my not-to-be-messed-with Colonel voice, just as he’s about to spew the entire contents of his mouth all over me and breakfast. “Don’t even think about it.” 

It works . . . this time. I feel him swallow and the cup plunks down on the tray table with a thud.

“What is this?” he demands, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand as he pokes a finger in the caramel-colored liquid. From the look he gets back, I’m guessing he must be giving Carter the suspicious look. “That’s not coffee,” he accuses.

Carter gives him a totally bland face. “It’s half and half, which is exactly what Dr. Fraiser said you can have and if you think I’m bucking Janet’s orders, you’re out of your mind, Doctor Jackson.”

“But, Sam –”

“No,” she says with more assurance than I could muster; of course, he’s not sitting in her lap. “Not today.” 

Which leaves the door wide open for bucking Janet’s orders in the future. 

And with that, Daniel Jackson will have to settle, because no one in this room is bucking her orders today. 

“Eat,” I order, imagining I can get away with it too. “You were whining about being hungry two minutes ago.” 

“I don’t whine,” Daniel mutters, picking up his fork. 

It occurs to me giving orders with him sitting in my lap is like asking for trouble. I wonder if I’m gonna be head to toe syrup before we’re done with breakfast, accidentally-on-purpose. Fortunately for me, he really is hungry, so he’s more interested in eating than pushing my buttons. 

I pick up my own fork, keeping an eye out for trouble. Teal’c’s already halfway through his breakfast by the time I start on the eggs and hash browns he brought me. 

“So, what are we doing?” Carter asks, around a mouthful of blue jello.

“Waiting,” Daniel replies, reaching both hands for the cup of coffee again. Guess he’s decided it’s better than nothing.

“Waiting?” Carter inquires. “For?”

“Your dad, for one. The Asgard? The Teprins?”

“Oh.” She glances at me and looks back at Daniel. “Daniel, I think you should know the Tok’ra don’t think there’s anything they can do. My dad’s coming, but he’s already talked to some of their scientists. They’ve never heard of anything like this, they know of no way to counteract it, or reverse it. And I don’t think the Asgard are going to go against the Teprins in this.”

“Why can’t we just go back? We have the coordinates, what’s to stop us?”

“Danieljackson, the Teprins do not allow their Stargate to be activated unless they have invited incoming guests. We cannot go back to their planet without an invitation.”

“You mean they have an iris or something in place to block incoming wormholes?”

“No, they control the activity of their Gate, both on and off the planet,” Teal’c responds, wiping his hands on a napkin as he pushes away his empty plate. “They simply do not allow unauthorized incoming wormholes.”

Daniel turns to look up at me again. “I want that technology too.”

I have to smile, can’t help it. “It’s certainly worth a try.” 

He’s got syrup on his face and hands already. How is it possible for a thirty-four-year-old to revert to six overnight? 

“Are you done?” 

He puts his fork down in the syrup without drawing a single hieroglyph. Normally it’s his favorite way to pass the time while he’s waiting for us to finish. Daniel’s never been big into the eating thing, he eats because he has to, or because someone’s making him. 

“Yes.” 

“Hey, don’t touch anything until we get your hands cleaned.”

Daniel holds out a hand to look at it. “Oh,” he says, reaching for the napkin Teal’c thoughtfully provided. However, it’s useless given the amount of syrup he’s currently sporting. 

“Drink your orange juice while Teal’c gets a washcloth.”

“I don’t want orange juice. Besides, I’ve got to go to the bathroom again.” He says this like he’s surprised; which he probably is. Adult Daniel, under normal circumstances, could hold twenty cups of coffee before he had to use the facilities. 

“Ahht!” I hiss, grabbing him under the arms as he starts to slide down off my lap. “I said don’t touch anything. And no standing on the toilet seat again, Daniel,” I add, as I swing him to the floor.

Daniel shuffles across the room without bothering to acknowledge either statement, back ramrod stiff, still trying to hold up the too-big, too-long scrubs currently clothing his small body.

“Quickly, Carter. Is there anything new?”

“No, sir. Unfortunately not. Are you going to hang around until my Dad gets here?”

“Do we need to? Does Jacob or Selmak actually need to see Daniel?”

“No, sir,” Carter says again. “Janet thinks she has enough tissue and blood samples to send back, though I think Dad would probably like to see him.”

“Well, we’re not waiting if we don’t have too. We need to make a couple of stops on the way home, get some clothes at the very least. I’m thinking he’s not going to take too kindly to running around for the next couple of weeks in those scrubs.”

“Uhm, there were some things dropped off this morning, sir. It’s apparently all over the Mountain all ready. Sergeant Clueless, in Daniel’s department, stopped by my lab earlier with a couple pairs of jeans and some t-shirts. She said her kids have outgrown them and they were in her car to be delivered to the Salvation Army drop box.”

“Not exactly as clueless as we thought, huh? Oh, well, we knew we couldn’t keep it quiet inside the Mountain. Anything that might fit?”

“Actually, sir, there probably are a number of things that will fit.”

“Sheesh, Carter. Tell me you’re not inundated already.”

“Not quite, sir. Should I go get some of it?”

“Yeah, why don’t you. That saves us at least one stop. I think we’ll still probably go by Daniel’s apartment and collect a few things. By the way, we’re on stand down for the immediate future.”

“I’m sure I can find something to do, sir. I’ll just go get some of those clothes.” 

Carter disappears again through the swinging doors and I glance over at Teal’c. “T?”

“O’Neill?” Teal’c looks back at me as he gathers up plates and utensils and piles them back on a tray.

I roll my eyes. Just what I need, a Jaffa channeling Daniel. Oy. “Any chance you’d be willing to come home with us this morning? I need to move some furniture around to accommodate Daniel’s changed stature. I could use a hand if you’re not busy.”

“I have previously scheduled classes this morning; however, I would be happy to lend a hand later this afternoon.”

“Great. No hurry.” 

Teal’c leaves with the trays and I get up to go check on Daniel. I’m gonna kill him if I find him standing on the toilet again. “Daniel!” I bang on the door when I realize it’s locked this time. “Open up right now.” 

From the monumental quiet issuing from inside the bathroom, I know damn well he’s up to something he’s not supposed to be. And then the door unlocks and he’s looking up at me through the crack. “What?” He swings the door open, catching a bare toe, and hops back on one foot, hanging onto the doorknob. “Owwww.”

“What took you so long?”

“Were you timing me?” he demands, letting go of the doorknob to grab his foot. 

I yelp as he drops down on his ass, on purpose I realize belatedly, to inspect his toe. 

“I’m bleeding,” the kid announces dramatically. 

And sure enough he is - copiously. 

“Oh, shit!” I snatch him up off the floor, yelling for Fraiser as I plop him down on the bed, trying to keep blood from dripping on the sheets. His foot in my hand is ludicrously small. I grab what looks like a washcloth off the night stand and wrap it around his foot. “Doc!” 

Where the hell is she? She was just in her office a few minutes ago. 

“ Colonel? What’s all the yelling about?”

“He stubbed his toe on the door. It’s bleeding.”

Daniel’s watching both of us, eyes wide. “Ice would be good,” he offers. There’s not a tear in sight over this, though it’s got to hurt like hell. He’s actually gashed his big toe, okay, his tiny little big toe, which means the gash can hardly be significant, but it’s still got to hurt.

“Tetanus,” Janet pronounces. “You need to at least find some socks for him, Colonel. He can’t go barefoot.”

“I just had a tetanus shot,” Daniel squeaks. “Less than six months ago, when I cut my hand so bad on P4X 399.”

“And your point would be?” Janet inspects the toe, wiggling it a bit. “Does that hurt?”

“Ya think? Of course it hurts!” Daniel spits back. “Is it broken?” He leans forward to inspect it as well, bumping heads with Janet, who pulls back with a frown.

“Daniel . . .” 

He looks up at her with those huge eyes and I can almost see her melting. 

Whatever she intended to say comes out as, “Sweetie, I need you to sit up so I can see, please.”

He obeys immediately. 

Fraiser and I exchange surprised glances. Daniel never does what he’s told, at least not until he’s analyzed it six ways to Sunday, and only then if it’s convenient.

“What? She said please.”

“She also called you sweetie.”

“Yeah, well, don’t do it again.” Daniel leans back on his elbows with a sigh. “It’s starting to hurt more now. Can I have some ice?” He looks at us. “Please?”

“Since you said please.” I get up to get ice. 

Janet goes to the locked cupboard and pulls out supplies, including a syringe and vial, as well as gauze and iodine, all of which she sets out on the tray table. 

I sit back down on the edge of the bed with on of those fancy smancy pliable things one of the nurses handed me that’s cold already. 

Daniel scoots around so he can lean against me as Fraiser works on his toe. He’s got his bottom lip between his teeth by the time she’s cleaned it and blown on the iodine to stop the sting. 

He pulls the foot into his lap and holds out his hand for the cold pack as soon as she’s got a bandaid on it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Janet gathers up all the supplies but the syringe and vial. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she offers and disappears again.

“What happened?” Carter comes in with an armload of clothes that actually look like they might fit.

“Where’d that stuff come from?” Daniel wants to know. 

“What happened?” Carter repeats, looking from Daniel to me when he doesn’t answer.

“Minor accident with the bathroom door. Any shoes in that pile of stuff?” Not that he’s going to want to put a shoe on that toe any time soon.

“No shoes. I think kids tend to wear out shoes before they outgrow them.”

“They do?” Most of the stuff she’s brought looks practically new. Kids outgrow clothes, but not shoes? 

Daniel watches curiously as she piles the clothes on the foot of the bed. Jeans and t-shirts for the most part, though there are a couple of really nice button-down shirts in the pile. Nothing in plaid though; Daniel won’t like them. 

“Where did this stuff come from?” he asks again, letting go of his ice pack with one hand to pick up one of the t-shirts. “I don’t think so.” He tosses it back before I get a good look at it, but it has some super hero on the front. 

I look up at Carter, suppressing a grin.

“It came from my office. Can you stand up?”

“Why do you have kid’s clothes in your office?” Daniel clambers to his feet and lets her hold up a pair of jeans against his waist, putting a hand on her shoulder to support himself since he’s not putting weight on his hurt foot.

“Seems like just about everybody’s heard what happened already. Several people stopped by my office this morning.” Carter holds up another pair; Ralph Lauren. 

Who the hell can afford to keep their six-year-old in Ralph Lauren jeans on a military salary? Looks like they’ll fit though.

“What size are they, Carter?”

“Six,” she says with emphasis.

“What’s that mean?” Daniel asks, already sliding out of the scrubs. “Turn around, Sam.”

Carter obligingly turns her back. There isn’t any size six underwear in that stack, not that he’d wear somebody else’s underwear anyway, guess we’re still in for a trip to the mall. 

“It doesn’t mean anything,” I say, reaching around him to rifle through the t-shirts. “What about this one?” 

I hold up a light blue oxford button down. All the t-shirts have something obnoxious on them, trucks and cars or goofy animals and super heros.

Daniel’s lip curls, but he attempts to shed the too-large scrub top, nearly falling off the bed in the process when he gets tangled in the excess material. Finally, he’s sitting down again, attempting to manipulate the buttons on the shirt front. 

The shirt obviously hasn’t seen much wear; I’m guessing it was part of somebody’s holiday outfit. Charlie had a few of those, worn once and outgrown before the next holiday. The button holes are stiff still, as is the material of the shirt. He’s having trouble getting the buttons through the button holes and when he does get it done up, he’s missed one and has one button too many at the bottom of the shirt.

Carter tsks, brushes his hands aside, and unbuttons and re-buttons in the time it took him to get one button in the buttonhole. 

Daniel rotates his shoulders uncomfortably. He likes his clothes soft and well worn. I swear he takes new stuff home and washes it several times before he ever puts it on. 

The shirt’s a little big on him and Carter rolls back the cuffs on the sleeves a couple times so he has hands again. 

Daniel hitches up his pants, plops down, and returns the ice pack to his bare toe. “Can we go home now?” 

“As soon as the Doc releases you.”

On cue, Fraiser reappears, picking up the syringe to poke the needle into the rubber top of the vial. 

“Was there a reason you let him get dressed?” she inquires, looking directly at me.

“Uh . . .” is all I can say.

“Janet, I just had a tetanus shot, why do I have to have another one?”

“Did you have an appendix when you got your last tetanus shot, Daniel?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” 

“I rather doubt this newly revitalized body of yours has had any immunizations.”

He looks at her wide-eyed as the realization of what she’s saying dawns. 

“Oh no,” he sidles back against me again, shaking his head. “Not going there.”

“Perhaps the two of you should give us a few minutes. I doubt Daniel wants an audience,” Fraiser says decisively.

I can feel Daniel’s heart beginning to hammer against my side. He’s definitely going into overdrive here. “Carter,” I glance across at her as I haul Daniel back onto my lap. “A little privacy would be good.”

She’s already gathering up the super-hero t-shirts. “I’ll just take these back to my office and make a few phone calls.”

“Thanks.” I wait until Carter’s headed through the doors. “Doc?” I take Fraiser’s hand and lay it over Daniel’s pounding heart; he’s watching us both, all eyes.

The doc puts the syringe down, sits back down on the bed, and takes his very small hands in hers. “Daniel, I know all of this is scary suddenly, okay? I understand that. Do you understand it isn’t something you have much control over right now?”

After a moment of puzzled mulling over, he shakes his head. 

“Your body and your body’s reactions have changed dramatically. Even though you have all those thirty-four-year-old memories intact still, your body is still reacting like . . .” she pauses here. “Well, like a six-year-old’s would react. A typical six-year-old wouldn’t have much control over his reactions to – oh, say, a big dog jumping up on him, or being scared of the dark. It’s just part of being six. Its how the brain works in a six-year-old. So what I’m trying to help you understand is that it’s okay to be scared.” She smiles, that heart stopping, tender smile she occasionally gave adult Daniel, only now it’s like ten times sappier. Okay, maybe only five times, but it’s damn sappy. She leans in to hug him too. “It will be over in ten seconds, okay?” She kisses the worry line between the eyebrows before she pulls back and looks up at me.

“Can I hold him?”

“This would be easier if he’s lying down, Colonel.”

“I don’t want to,” Daniel whispers, clinging to me.

Janet shrugs. “You’ll have to hold him still.”

Okay, so in the end it maybe takes sixty seconds and there are tears making fresh tracks down cheeks that are bright red with embarrassment by the time his jeans are back in place and his shirt pulled down over his probably-going-to-be-sore butt. His face is pressed tightly against my neck again, though there’s no sound as my t-shirt gets thoroughly soaked. 

Apparently shots in the ass are much more traumatic at six than thirty-four.

Janet rubs the back of his head, I rub his back, and eventually I feel him begin to relax again. 

“Ready to blow this joint, pal?” 

He nods against my neck.

I call Hammond from Daniel’s office while our archeologist is piling books and papers into his everyday backpack, watch Daniel look around as I tell Hammond we’re headed out, and slam the phone down to snatch him off his precarious perch as he pulls a stool over to a book shelf and clambers up to retrieve something he thinks he needs. 

Grey? Forget grey, I’m gonna be white-haired by the time this is over, and that’s only if I haven’t snatched myself bald! I plunk him down on the counter, keeping a grip on his arms as I glare at him. 

He winces. 

Ouch - probably wasn’t comfortable for him at all, but maybe it will help make my point. “If you want something out of your reach, you need to ask for it, Daniel.”

“I’m not helpless, Jack, just short,” he informs me, wriggling to get out of my hold. 

Since he’s sitting on the counter, bare feet dangling three feet above the floor, I’m not about to let go of him. “I didn’t say you were helpless, I asked you to ask if you need something that’s out of your reach.”

He eyes me for a minute. “What if you’re not around when I need something?”

“Then ask somebody else. We can get something stable, a ladder or step stool, for in here. Just don’t go climbing up on that stool again, okay? Promise?”

“No,” he says grumpily. “I’m not making promises I don’t intend to keep.”

I let go of him with one hand, grab the stool, drag it over in front of us, and rock the damn thing. One leg is slightly shorter than the other three. 

He blinks, shrugs, and says, “Oh, I forgot.”

“Yeah, well, don’t forget again.” I don’t bother to ask him to promise because I know he won’t, which just means he doesn’t get left in here alone anymore. “Have you got what you want now?”

He thinks for a second, slides his butt to the edge of the counter so I have to put him down or hold him hanging in mid-air, which I consider doing for about a millisecond before I ease him down to the floor. 

He takes off immediately, trotting to yet another bookcase where he deliberates for several minutes, touching the spines of half a dozen books before he pulls out one and comes back to the desk - which is a foot and a half lower than the counter and therefore just about chest height on him now - and shoves it into the backpack. 

“I think that’s everything I need from here. I might have some stuff at home I need too.”

“I figured we’d stop by your apartment.”

“Okay, then I’m ready.”

“One more stop and we can head out.”

“Where?”

“The locker room.” 

We all keep a change of clothes in our lockers. If he doesn’t have clean socks, I do, and he needs something on his feet, even if it’s just socks. I know these floors are cold and it’s only in the teens on the surface, he can’t go out barefoot. Definitely going to have to make a stop at the mall, for underwear and shoes if nothing else.

Hammond catches up with us as we get on the elevator that takes us up to level ten. At ten we have to switch elevators to make the trip to the surface. 

Daniel’s refused to let me carry him, though he’s holding my hand. The elevator dings for ten and Hammond and I are chatting as we get off and Daniel swipes my card for the next set of elevators on the opposite side of the corridor. 

I feel him sway against me and look down as his hold on my hand mutates to a death grip.

“Jack ...” the grip on my hand loosens and he crumples in a heap at my feet. 

I don’t feel a thing as I drop to my knees beside him. “THOR!” He’s not breathing, there’s no pulse and no heartbeat when I put my hand on his chest. I straighten the crumpled limbs and check again for a pulse at his throat, disbelieving. 

This has to be a nightmare, it absolutely can’t be happening. Fraiser said he was fine. He was acting like he was fine. 

“THOR!” I roar again, “You damn well better fix this! NOW!” 

If there was anybody in the Mountain who didn’t know, they do now. 

Think, O’Neill, think! 

Get the heart beating again. I feel and hear ribs crack as I smack – at the last second – my open hand down on his chest.

He’s little, for cryin’ out loud, think tiny! I could have caved his whole chest in if I’d caught him with the full force of my adult fist. 

No time to sweat it, just do it! Clear his airways, tilt his head back, breathe. 

Chest compressions. 

Think tiny, tiny! 

One, two, three, four, five, one, two, three, four, ten, one, two, three, four, fifteen. 

I hear Hammond on the hall phone behind me calling for a med team. 

Breathe. Chest compressions. One, two, three . . .

And then there’s no Daniel Jackson under my hands and I’m doing chest compressions in midair, only just catching myself before I take a nosedive into the floor myself.

“Thor,” Hammond says, as we find ourselves standing on the obs deck of Thor’s ship. 

I look around to find Carter and Teal’c looking back at us. 

Carter’s looking flabbergasted; Teal’c is standing as usual, with his hands behind his back, looking for all the world like this kind of thing happens to him every day.

“Why are we here, O’Neill?” 

“Something happened to Daniel.” I put up a hand when Carter rushes in with questions. “I don’t know what. We’d just gotten off the elevators at level ten and were waiting for the elevator to the surface and he just went down. No warning, no nothing. He said my name and dropped like a stone. No pulse, no heartbeat. I broke some ribs when I tried to get his heart started again.”

“It’s a good thing the Asgards were monitoring the situation,” Carter gapes at me. “He was fine when I left. Wasn’t he?”

“Fraiser gave him the tetanus shot, that’s all. If he’d gone into shock, we’d have had some warning.”

“Where’s Thor?” Carter whirls around in a full circle.

“He damn well better be fixing Daniel,” I snarl, fisting a hand in my hair. Wonder if I’ll look as good as Teal’c does bald.

Probably not.

There are Asgard all around us, but I don’t see Thor, not that I can tell them apart. They’re all hurrying and scurrying, as if on business of vital importance. No one’s paying the least bit of attention to us. 

Ahhh, here comes our escort now.

“I am Loki, we have met before,” he bows slightly at the waist, looking at me. “Colonel O’Neill. Major Carter. Teal’c. General Hammond, I do not believe we have met. If you would come with me, I will take you to Daniel Jackson.”

“Where’s Thor?”

“He is with the boy.”

“What, sir?” Carter asks, leaning toward me as I mutter under my breath.

“Nothing, Carter.” I’ve got nothing to keep my hands busy; no weapon to hang onto, no tools to be fidgeting with, nothing. Which is not good since I want to strangle somebody here; empty hands and a sorely pissed off covert ops Colonel don’t go together too well. 

Teal’c puts a large hand on my shoulder. “Thor will not let anything happen, O’Neill. He as much as guaranteed it when he returned Danieljackson to us on the Teprins planet.”

Well, okay, he might have something there. There was something from Thor about Daniel being . . . what was the term? 

Safeguarded? 

I remember wondering at the time if that was anything like be Scotchguarded. What? They safeguarded him like a piece of furniture? But hey, I’m not gonna argue if that means they’re on guardian angel duty 24/7. I’d feel a hell of a lot better if I knew the Asgard are watching out for him too. 

We’re ushered into a small room. It’s probably only small by human standards, but with four full-size humans, one pint size one, and two Asgard, the room’s really crowded. The pint-sized human is encased in a pint-sized stasis chamber with the dome closed over the top.

“Carter, you get to kiss him to wake him up.” I tap lightly on the glass, or whatever animal, vegetable or mineral makes up the component bits of what looks like a glass shield.

“Daniel Jackson cannot hear you, O’Neill,” Thor informs me. “He is in an altered state of consciousness. We brought you here to reassure you that all is well, but it will be a few hours of your Earth time before we can revive him again. Do you wish to wait here on our ship? Or may I send you home?”

“If Dr. Jackson is all right, you may send me back to the SGC,” Hammond states authoritatively.

“We’ll wait here,” Carter asserts, pressing both palms to the glass, as though she can reach Daniel by force of will. “If that’s okay, sir?” She glances at Hammond.

“Of course. Report to me as soon as you’re back, SG-1.”

“Yes, sir.” I respond, rounding on Thor. “What happened?” I demand.

The General disappears in a stream of sparkling light.

“To what do you refer, O’Neill?” Thor is a master of diplomacy and tact.

I’m not interested in diplomacy, much less tact, at the moment. “He was dead. As in heart not beating, no pulse, not breathing, unexpectedly crumpled at my feet, dead. What happened?”

“We do not know what caused this, perhaps it was your Earth medicine your Dr. Fraiser insisted he have.”

“She gave him a tetanus shot, for crying out loud! How could that possibly have stopped his heart?”

“I do not know, O’Neill. Perhaps it was too soon, in combination with the things that altered his body chemistry to reduce his age. It was unexpected, or we would have intervened sooner. We did not expect you to allow him to hurt himself so quickly.”

“This is Daniel we’re talking about,” I growl furiously. “You know, the universal trouble magnet?”

“I had not realized he was quite so accident prone.”

Loki is fluttering around near the end of the stasis chamber, moving those glowing stones around rather agitatedly. “He is not supposed to be awakening yet.”

Thor steps up to the console, fiddles with the stones too, and glances at me. “I wish him to stay in this altered state for several more hours, O’Neill. Please assure Daniel Jackson all will be well so he will stop trying to surface.” 

I just look at the little grey alien. “Yeah, right,” I say finally. “If he’s unconscious, how the hell am I supposed to do that?”

“I believe Major Carter pressing her hands against the shield is what has beckoned him from his deep sleep. You need only lay your hands on the shield and reassure him you are here looking out for him. His subconscious mind will understand and process it.”

“How?” 

Now Thor just looks at me. 

“All right, all right.” Cautiously I spread both palms against the glass and look over at Carter. “What did you do?”

“Nothing, sir. It just . . . felt . . . like maybe I could reach him.”

“He’s not dead, is he?”

“He is not dead, O’Neill,” Thor repeats patiently.

I look down at the small troubled face, wishing I could see those bright blue eyes, just to reassure myself. “Daniel.” I move my fingers over top of his impossibly small chest. “Go back to sleep, or whatever it is you’re in. We’re all here. Carter, Teal’c and me, and we’re not going anywhere, okay?” 

And damn if I don’t see him relax and stop struggling. I can just about guarantee I’m gonna wish I had that kind of power over him when he’s awake sometime during the next week or two.

It’s a very subdued Daniel that walks out with Thor several hours later. He immediately latches on to my hand and presses in to my side, but says nothing.

I hunker down beside him, trying to ignore my twinging knees. “You okay?” I ask quietly, taking his hands between my own and rubbing gently. “Are you cold?” 

His hands are like ice, as are his feet when I put my hand around a very small ankle.

He just looks at me, blinking owlishly.

Carter slides up behind him and puts her arms around his shoulders. Daniel leans back with a sigh. 

“Daniel, are you okay?” she asks again.

“Guess so,” he replies with a shrug.

“Thor?” I raise an eyebrow.

“He is fine, Colonel, though likely very fatigued.”

Teal’c steps forward. “I will convey Danieljackson home, O’Neill.” He scoops the kid up in one arm and I have to smile as Daniel lays his head down on T’s shoulder without the slightest self-consciousness. 

“It is likely Daniel Jackson will be extremely weary for a few days,” Thor offers, diplomatically. 

Read he’s going to sleep nearly around the clock for the next three days and scare the shit out of you, I realize after the fact.

“This is a complication no one foresaw,” the little grey alien offers, tilting his head and his slanting eyes up in Daniel’s direction. “But he is fine, as I said. I will return you all to the SGC now.” 

“Wait!” I shoot a hand up. “Just wait. You told us Daniel was being safeguarded, back on the Teprins planet. How?”

If the Asgard can frown, Thor’s frowning at me now, though his facial expression doesn’t change much. “You do not need to worry, O’Neill.”

“Yeah, well,” I suck in air, “I do, so why don’t you help relieve me of that worry by telling me what you meant.”

“Daniel Jackson will grow again to adulthood, O’Neill, that is all I’m able to tell you. I will return you to the SGC now.”

“But . . . oh, shit.” We’re standing in the boardroom. Hammond’s getting up from behind his desk, even though he’s on the phone. I can tell he’s cutting it short. 

Daniel’s asleep on Teal’c’s shoulder, drooling slightly, as T rubs his back.

“Everything okay?” General Hammond asks quietly, in deference to the sleeping child. 

Again, I don’t realize until much later, we could have had a shouting match going on over his head and it wouldn’t have woken Daniel.

“Yes, sir. As far as it goes. The Asgard said they’ve put everything back the right way this time. Daniel is fine. Thor thinks he might be a little tired for the next few days is all.”

“Dr. Fraiser wants to see him again before you leave the mountain.”

“Of course she does,” I sigh. “Teal’c, want me to take him?” 

“I will accompany you to the infirmary, O’Neill. I believe he is noisily asleep,” Teal’c rumbles.

“That would be sound asleep and I believe you’re right, T. Carter?”

She checks her watch and sees we’ve spent the better part of the day in space again. “I’m going to go shut down my lab equipment, sir. Think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Yeah, it’s been another day from hell, Carter. I totally understand.”

“Do you still wish me to go home with you and Danieljackson, O’Neill?”

“Ya know, T, I think when we’re done here, we’re gonna call it a night ourselves. We can move furniture tomorrow. No hurry, whenever you can make it.”

“I’ll bring him out, sir.”

“Yeah, that would be good.”

“Sir,” I turn to the General. “Permission to take Daniel to the infirmary and then home when Doc’s finished with him.”

“Granted, Colonel. You take care of our boy now.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best, sir.”

* * *

Epilogue

The official memo went to Washington today. It was militarily brief.

Dr. Daniel Jackson, a civilian employee of Stargate Command, was killed in an accident on an off-world archeological dig. A memorial service will be held for Dr. Jackson at 2:00 p.m, on November 15th, at the SGC.

I happen to know the official report went to Washington two days ago, with the authorized details of the death of Dr. Daniel Jackson. Daniel gleefully participated in writing the damn thing and I must admit we did have a little fun at the brass’s expense. 

If we’d held memorial services for every time Daniel has died - well, let’s see - I think that would be at least one a year for as long as he’s been here. This will be the second time we’ve actually had a service.

Daniel wants to go, though I’ve yet to tell him the President is planning to be here. He wants to write his own eulogy too, thinks it would be really cool. 

Anyway, the memorial is still a few days away, and while I probably will let him help write the eulogy, I don’t think I’m going to let him go to the memorial. He’s got enough macabre stuff he carries around inside his head already, he doesn’t need to add this on top of it. 

But we’ll see. 

He’s already proven extremely strong-willed. If he really wants to go, short of chaining him up in my office, I doubt I’ll be able to keep him away. 

I doubt Dr. Daniel Jackson has ever been thwarted when it comes to something he really wants. I have serious doubts he will ever be thwarted when it comes to something he seriously wants . . . except to be big again overnight. 

Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

~*~


End file.
